


Breakfast is a Little Cold Today

by VenomQuill



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Relativity Falls, Don't think about it too much, Don't you want Gravy with that Biscuit?, Drabbles, Gen, Inverted Relativity Falls, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 10:58:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20619914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenomQuill/pseuds/VenomQuill
Summary: School has let out for the winter, so Stanford and Fiddleford are visiting their Grunkle Dipper and Great Aunt Mabel! Thank goodness their parents agreed and went with them. Only good things can happen. ...right?





	Breakfast is a Little Cold Today

**Author's Note:**

> Find it on dA: http://fav.me/ddg2uyp

Stanley and Stanford stared eagerly out the window of their car. They watched the sun rise over the snowy pine forest valley they were driving into. Their dad drove in silence while their mother spoke on the phone. A deck of cards was before her.

Though the boys were buzzing with excitement, they daren’t speak while their mother was on one of her business calls. Eventually, however, their mother shut off her phone with a _click._ The twins looked up at their mother with broad grins. Their mother smiled back. “Is there something you want to tell us?”

“YES!” the boys answered at the same time.

Stanford looked at Stanley. “You first!”

“Okay,” Stanley sat up straight. “So, everyone said they’re meeting us at the Shack. When they said _everyone_…”

“…They mean _everyone!_” Stanford announced.

“So, our friends from work, our great aunt’s friends, our friends’ friends, the kids we met…”

“…hopefully the gnomes and the Multi-Bear, probably the Manotaurs…”

“…Candy Chiu, Pacifica Northwest, _maybe_ Preston Northwest…”

Their father looked in the rearview mirror before turning ahead again. “The Northwests?”

“Yeah!” Stanley answered. “We used to hate them a lot.”

“But after I helped exorcise that Ghost of Vengeance,” Stanford started.

“…and we were probably two of the biggest things in saving everyone from Weirdmaggedon…”

“…and we helped Mrs. Northwest find the courage to stand up to her husband…”

“…and we’re awesome…”

“…they’re our friends, now,” Stanford finished. “Even Preston, who used to pick on us and our friends and one time probably 'accidently' hit Stanley with a golf club.”

“Oh, and if you’re in’erested in them,” Stanley piped up, “You should probably stay away from the subject of their house. After Mr. Northwest sunk a bunch of money into weird stocks, they had to sell their mansion. They’re all still real sour about it.”

“But Mrs. Chiu got her own lab!” Stanford pointed out. “She could have made it all when she was younger, but at least she finally earned her fortune.”

“Turns out, bein’ an inventor or a scientist can make you a whole lot,” Stanley agreed and then elbowed Stanford. “Betcha you will be the next big scientist dude! Fidds’ll be an inventor and the three of us will be an unstoppable team! We’ll travel ‘round the world…”

“…solving mysteries and meeting monsters…”

“…goin’ on the adventure of a lifetime!” Stanley announced and threw his hands in the air.

Stanford didn’t need to see their father to see the interest. His father always wanted a fortune. Though he couldn’t make millions through a pawn shop, he could always rely on Stanford once he grew up. “Oh, hey!” Stanford looked out the window. “We’re almost there!”

“Look! Gnomes!” Stanley pointed out the window. Indeed, a few gnomes clustered around the sign welcoming them to Gravity Falls. Stanley scooted over to the other window so that they could survey both sides of the road.

Their mother, quite amused, prompted, “And are these gnomes and monsters coming to the Shack?”

“Hopefully!” Stanford answered. “And everyone else.”

“Do you think Cellestabellabethabel will be there?” Stanley prompted.

“Pfft. Only if she’s getting more horse shampoo from Fidds! Oh, Cellestabellabethabel is the unicorn Stanley met when we were making a barrier to protect the Shack,” Stanford explained.

“Yep. In order to make the magic spell, we had to get unicorn hair. I thought about knocking her out with Fairy Dust, but Fiddleford brushed out their manes. Apparently, she had two unicorn friends,” Stanley agreed. “Oh! The Shack!”

Stanford laughed. “They’re here! Wow!”

Their parents stared in disbelief as they drove into the personal driveway of the Shack. The Multibear waved at them as did a bunch of gnomes, Chutzpar, and a bunch of the Lillputians. Cellestabellabethabel and her two unicorn friends nickered and shined their horns. Their friends and family from Gravity Falls waved and laughed.

As soon as the car stopped, Stanford and Stanley evacuated. Fiddleford pounced on Stanford and Dan picked up Stanley. “Hey, you!”

When their parents got out the car, Grauntie Mabel hugged Filbrick with a “You made it, you old rascal!”

Fiddleford, when he knew Stans’ parents weren’t looking, pecked Stanford on the cheek and intertwined his fingers in Stanford’s. “It’s so good to see you!”

“You, too, man!” Stanford agreed with a laugh.

“Hey!” Jeff called. “I hope you realize you just drove into our land and didn’t even greet us!”

Dan let Stanley down, who immediately picked up Jeff. “How about that?”

Jeff waved his arms. “Okay, okay! Forget I said anything!” He was promptly put back down.

Their great uncle, smiling, knelt and put an arm around Stanford’s shoulders and ruffled Stanley’s hair. “It’s been a while! …you should keep talking. Marbles just had a few shots of Mabel Juice and is more excited than I’ve seen her since Tyrone was born. Let your parents be her focus for a bit.”

They looked at their great aunt. She held out a hand for their mother. But, as soon as their mother took her hand, Grauntie Mabel pulled her in for a tight hug.

“How’ve you been?” Stanford prompted.

“Busy!” Grunkle Dipper announced. “Marbles is still running the Shack. I’ve been planning out our trips. After winter break, we’re going on a cross-country mission!”

~

“We’re leaving.”

The toxic words hung in the air, revolting against the wind. They stood there, Filbrick and his wife against Grauntie Mabel and Grunkle Dipper. Stanley and Stanford stood by Grauntie Mabel. Fiddleford and Dan stood not too far away. Pacifica Northwest, her bag over her shoulder and her heeled feet hardly away from the still warm car, held her son in one hand.

Filbrick didn’t look down at the twin boys standing by them. “Get in the car.” When they didn’t move, he turned his gaze away from his aunt and pointed to the car. “I said now!”

Stanford flinched. Stanley shuffled is feet. He wavered, as if the words were physically pulling him to the car, physically making him follow his father’s order. He stopped moving as he felt Grauntie Mabel’s hand on his shoulder. “No, they’re staying with us.” She looked down at Stanley and Stanford. “Relax, Hun-bun. It’s going to be okay.”

*

Stanford glanced back. Fiddleford was long gone. Good. Terrified as he was, he was glad Fiddleford was not here. Fiddleford’s fear would only add to Stanford’s.

Filbrick, finally having had enough, took Stanford by the arm and started to go back to his car. Stanford yelped and stumbled, his father’s grip on his arm was too tight for his comfort. Stanley took his other hand. Grauntie Mabel bristled and ran over to them. The crowd shifted, all in favor, more or less, of the twins.

_RRRROOOOOARRRF! ROARF! ROOARRROOORF!_

People and monsters alike screamed. “DUCK!” “TAKE COVER!” “IT’S BACK!” rang out from so many different voices, it was incredible any given word could be understood in the clamor. Filbrick turned around. Both pair of twins looked back. A black, three headed dog as big as a grizzly bear stormed from the trail to the Shack, a flurry of barks and snarls and howls coming from all three heads. Its massive paws ripped the ground out from under it and used the rubble and stone left behind to launch itself forward. Most of the crowd ducked. Some ran out of the canine’s way. The massive canine didn’t pay attention to the crowd. Though, it seemed to have some semblance of awareness as it leaped over people and its massive paws slammed on open ground rather than anyone it could seriously injure.

Grauntie Mabel grabbed Dipper by the hands and took a few steps back. Mae Pines, seeing the look on her aunt-in-law’s and uncle-in-law’s faces, grabbed her kids and shoved them to the ground. Stanford’s arm was torn out of Filbrick’s grip in doing so. Filbrick stood still. In fact, he ignored his aunt and uncle and wife and children and instead ran to the trunk of the car, where he pulled out a bat.

The canine was on him in seconds.

He swung. The left head took the bat in its jaws and stopped it in its tracks. It bit down. The bat turned to splinters and was torn completely out of Filbrick’s hand by the middle one. The right one lunged at Filbrick, who backed off again and took out a gun. The dog didn’t hesitate in grabbing the pistol. It turned its head to the side so that the shot fire harmlessly through the gaps in the canine’s teeth while the canine didn’t actually draw blood.

“Run, idiot!” this came from Preston, who’d stood up. “Take off your coat and _run!_”

“My _coat?”_ Filbrick tried to take the gun away from the hound. He let go and recoiled as it’s left snapped at him so close to his arm it nearly took it off. The right head grabbed a hold of the collar of his coat. The middle head spat out the gun. The coat of his right arm tore, leaving shreds of fabric in the canine’s teeth. He balled his hands into fists and punched the middle head so hard in the jaw it was dislocated. Filbrick hissed in pain as whatever the dog’s jaw was made out of hurt.

The dog didn’t even flinch. It grabbed him by the coat front and shook its head. Filbrick managed to slip out of the fabric and ran to the other side of the car, probably hoping to find whatever weapon he’d stored in the foot of the backseat. Meanwhile, the canine happily ripped the coat to smithereens. Fluff and felt and fur rained over the ground like the snow that was predicted for tomorrow. It stopped growling and simply wagged its tail. It only raised its head when Filbrick came back. It took a step back to avoid having its left head smashed in by a crowbar. The canine’s snarl rumbled like thunder. Its left head grabbed onto the crowbar and tore back. When Filbrick predictably didn’t let go, the canine shoved him down.

Filbrick raised his free arm to defend himself. Its right head drew _blood_ as it yanked his forearm away and held on. Its center head bit down on his shirt and shook from side to side. One giant paw kept him pinned. The other pressed down on his left arm. Though the man was big, his kicks to the chest and struggles didn’t phase it.

“Dipper!” Grauntie Mabel complained. “Do something!”

Grunkle Dipper, a laser gun in his hands, barked back, “What? If I shoot it, I’ll kill _him! _This thing’s powerful enough to punch a hole through an elephant, Mabel.”

Indeed, the dog had planted itself on Filbrick in such a way that any bullet would ricochet or laser would burn through. It helped that it had three heads. One head held onto Filbrick’s arm. Another held the shirt on his chest, and the third tore away the crowbar.

“Biscuit!”

The dog stopped snarling and biting. It raised its left head, which held the crow bar Filbrick no longer wielded. Stanford had slipped out of his mother’s grasp and stood up. All eyes drifted to the thirteen-year-old boy as he stalked forward. Nothing was in his hands. He wasn’t that big and, for all intents and purposes, he wasn’t a threat to a small buck much less a three-headed canine that took down his father, whom the family thought was untouchable. “Biscuit: drop it, girl!”

The canine, Biscuit, growl-whined. Her tail fell and touched her shins.

Stanford stopped. His feet pressed down on the ground a foot away from his father. He pointed to the ground. “Drop it. _Now._”

Biscuit let out a real whine. Ears folded back, she gently set down the crowbar.

“Back off.” Stanford ordered.

Biscuit’s center head let go. Otherwise, she didn’t move.

“Biscuit. Drop him. Shoo!” Stanford waved his hands. His fingers nearly touched the center head’s muzzle.

Biscuit let out another growl-whine. Eventually, she let go of Filbrick completely and backed off. Filbrick, gingerly holding his injured arm, crawled out from under Biscuit and backed off.

“You went too far, Biscuit. Apologize,” Stanford ordered.

Biscuit lowered herself to the ground and, tail between her legs, ears flat, eyes wide, and all three heads hovering an inch or so over the ground, lay in front of Stanford.

Stanford put his hands on his hips. “You’re not apologizing to me. You didn’t hurt me at all.”

Biscuit’s center head growled and snorted. Stanford didn’t answer. He just stared into Biscuit’s eyes with a hard gaze. Eventually, the canine relented. With a harsh growl-huff, she looked up at Filbrick, walked forward a pace, and then spat out his wallet. Filbrick looked down at the object holding his identification and cash, and then the canine.

Stanford sighed. “Okay, I get it. Fine. You’re done.”

Biscuit hopped to her feet, which caused Filbrick to take another few steps back. Biscuit, tail wagging, nuzzled Stanford and pushed him over. Her left muzzle nipped at his arm while the right one sniffed his jacket. Stanford put a hand on Biscuit’s center muzzle and pushed her away. “Okay, okay. That’s enough. You can’t have _my_ jacket.”

Biscuit let go and backed off, tail still wagging.

Stanford cupped her crooked, center jaw in his hands and looked her in the eyes. He mouthed, _“Thank you.”_ He spoke aloud, “Now go wash off and pick that coat out of your mouths. Seriously. I think a few are stuck.” He plucked a few pieces of torn fabric from her teeth. He even reached down to pluck some of the teeth in the back to untangle from frayed fabric.

Biscuit nipped at him again before bounding off into the forest.

“Bye, Biscuit!” Stanford yelled and waved his hand.

Stanley stood beside him. “Well, that happened.”

“She listened to me.”

“She always listens to you!” Stanley shoved him, causing Stanford to laugh.

“What the hell just happened?”

The boys stopped smiling and looked up at their father. They couldn’t read the expression on his face.

“Biscuit,” Stanford explained. “She’s been around here for a few years.”

Stanley nodded. “Yeah. She attacks bullies.”

“When someone is being hurt or threatened or scared,” Stanford went on, sending a hard glance at his brother, “-she’d intervene. No matter what’s happening, who it is, what the relationship is–she’ll attack the most aggressive party. But she’s never _hurt_ anyone before. I’ve never seen her draw blood.”

Stanley nodded. “Yeah, well, everyone she’s attacked runs away without a fight. Dad fought her.”

“And you know this hound? She’s been here before?” Filbrick asked. “And you didn’t tell me?”

Stanley narrowed his eyes in a glare. Although fear caused his heart to tremble, seeing his dad defeated, pinned, and torn apart quelled some of it. “We didn’t need to.”

Filbrick’s gaze darkened. “Did you sick her on me?”

Stanford shook his head wildly. Stanley answered tersely, “We didn’t need to. You’re hurting us and she can’t stand that!” Behind the twins, just outside of the tree line, Biscuit stood. All heads lowered, legs spread, and every tooth bared, she glowered at Filbrick.

Grauntie Mabel walked around and set her hands on their shoulders. “And that’s it, then.”

~

“Fiddleford!” Stanley and Stanford yelled into the junkyard. “Fidds! Fidds, where are you?”

Fiddleford appeared at the top of the hill, Biscuit at his side. His visor was pulled up so that he could see them and his headset pulled down to his shoulders so that he could hear them. The fur on Biscuit’s center jaw had been removed to reveal a dented metal “U” interlaced with wires. “Stans!”

Stanley threw his arms up. “That was awesome!”

“How’d you get here so fast?” Stanford prompted.

Fiddleford shrugged. “I took the Mystery Cart.”

**Author's Note:**

> >3> _In Soviet Russia, Biscuit eats YOU!_
> 
> lol Anyway, this is set post <s>"Our Uncle Who Lives in the Woods,"</s> "Relatively Speaking," but not exactly canon to it (for reasons that are major spoilers for said fanfic). Poppy and Salvia (the twin ravens) were originally inventions by Fiddleford. But I liked them too much and now they're "living" entities in the "Gravity Trails" AU.
> 
> In addition, "Biscuit" has never hurt anyone. Jackets are replaceable but close enough to strike fear and spook bullies away from their victims. And I'll give you three guesses as to why Preston knows her. >>
> 
> I made this last year (like, October or September or something, maybe even November-ish?) so... here. Haha I have a LOT of short written works that I never published due to them only being, like, half thoughts. That's one of the reasons the 100 Themes challenge is so fun; it CAN handle half-thoughts without dragging it down too much. :)
> 
> Edit: Whooops, I meant: post "Relatively Speaking" Haha


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